TRAVELER
Chapter 128

by CARL DICKSON

Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a home and someone to love them as they are.
No one deserves to be discriminated against, no matter what their differences from society's norm
.

A tidy quote from chapter 137
"titles belong on books, not people" ©Carl Dickson—2007

Does your mother know you're reading this shit?

Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys.
It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, or offends you, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.

If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut.
If you lied about your age in order to access this story, remember this is our story. Life doesn't always work out like a story.

A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitioiusly,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2005-2012. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.


You may download the CHEROKEE TONT for free at this link. Dowload it, install it, then enjoy seeing the TSAIAGI names in this story. This font is included in the full version Send an e-mail for it.
    Monday morning I sat down with the director of the charter school through which I was getting the virtual classes for the high school boys. I learned that she had a charter high school, not a charter school. I learned that the lady operating the school had simply not applied as a K-12 school, but only as a 9-12. She had been a private K-12 school in the past, but as a charter school she was now state funded. That put my brain to work so I asked for the use of a desk and a phone.
    The state's school board was more than happy to work with me for a fully accredited K-12 school. I could meet all of the needs of my family. I received special dispensation to have dual campuses so that I could keep the older gay boys separate from the younger children, that was granted without discussion. I am a bit unnerved by the fact that whatever I ask of the government of late it is granted, carte blanche. I feel that my present position involves my recent actions, of that I don't approve.
    I had no idea that I would receive such negative response from the woman that held the charter for the school, but I had a whole line of aces up my sleeve of which she had no knowledge. I actually had fifty eight aces, or more accurately, percent. When I looked into sending my boys to this school I looked into their finances and I learned that their stock was available at a steal. I bought fifty eight hundred shares of the their preferred stock the first week that they had made it available to the public. You know and I know that more than forty percent of preferred stock should never be offered to the public because preferred stock is the controlling stock for a corporation. This company's treasurer had erred, big time.
    I had not wanted to do it, but I was forced to play my aces. I had an hysterical woman on my hands at once as she screamed at her partners/officers to join us in her office. A quick look at their books showed that in fact preferred stock had been released as opposed to common stock and that I owned the controlling interest in their school. I did not want to own another school, but I would use what I had to achieve my goals.
    I made it clear to the four ladies that I was not out to control their business and that I could help them sell their common stock for much more than I bought my stock. I told them that I was going to retain my stock as long as I had boys enrolled in their school, but I was sure that they would find me amiable to work with.
    Only one of the officers had a class so the other three maned the telephones to contact the parents of their students from the previous year that wanted to return to the school. It would take a few days to have classrooms ready, but I had a place near my home for all of my boys to attend. The best part of it for me was that I could get the younger boys, including Roddy, away from the older boys for a few hours a day.

    I stopped by Ryan Miller's house to tell him the good news about having a school for his boys. Seven year old Bart ran to me, he is a cute kid, but a bit late in his development, he had just lost his first baby teeth over the summer. He told me that now he could suck Julie without scrapping his cock with his teeth. That innocent comment from an innocent child stabbed through my heart like an icy hot knife.
    Bart wanted to show me his library book, I had to sit down. Not only was I overcome with laughter, but also the title and subject matter totally stunned me. Bart Miller had a child's sex education book entitled Where Willy Went: by Nicholas Allan; Alfred A. Knopf Books for Young Readers, Feb 2005. This is a picture book listed under the Humorous Stories, Reproduction, Health & Medicine - Sex Education, and Health & Daily Living-Sex Education headings of the card library indexes.
    Powell.com has the following synapses of the children's book:
Where Willy Went
by Nicholas Allan
Publisher Comments: Never before have the facts of life been presented in such an accessible—or novel—way. Our hero is Willy, a little sperm who lives inside Mr. Browne with 300 million friends. Every day Willy practices for the Great Swimming Race. And when the day arrives, he swims faster than his 300 million friends to win the prize—a marvelous egg. Then something wonderful happens, and eventually Mr. and Mrs. Browne have a baby girl who has the same winning smile as Willy and who grows up to be a great swimmer. Hilariously funny, warm, and endearing, this is a picture book that appeals on different levels to both children and grown-ups.

Review:"The hero of Allan's (The Queen's Knickers) droll and informative tale is a sperm named Willy who lives inside Mr. Browne 'at the same address' as 300 million other sperm. The author wryly portrays that address and its inhabitants in a cross-section drawing of Mr. Browne's testicle, in which minuscule sperms bustle around a crowded town-like setting, complete with a 'sperm bank,' swimming pool and cinema. The author then zeroes in on Willy, who practices daily for the 'Great Swimming Race,' the prize for which is the 'beautiful egg' inside Mrs. Browne. Willy isn't able to answer his teacher's question about how many sperms he'll have to beat ('He wasn't very good at math, but he was very good at swimming'). But the teacher provides the racers with two maps — whimsically depicting the anatomically correct 'inside' views of Mr. and Mrs. Browne. That night, when the couple 'joined together' (lumpy bedclothes suggests their presence underneath), the race gets underway. Willy outswims his main rival and burrows into the egg. Rudimentary time-lapse drawings reveal 'something wonderful' happening as the egg develops into a fetus and Mrs. Browne gives birth to a baby girl. 'Where had little Willy gone? Who knows?,' asks the author, who then slyly notes that when the child grows older, 'she found she wasn't very good at math…, but she was very good at swimming!' Delivering basic facts with subtlety and humor, this sprightly story will serve as a useful catalyst for adult-child dialogue. Ages 4-8." Publishers Weekly (Copyright Reed Business Information, Inc.)

Review:"Fresh, original, and imaginative…Allan's achievement is in couching fascinating facts within the construct of a gentle, direct narrative. A little knowledge is a wonderful thing, and as the rest of the facts of life fall into place, Allan's readers will look back on this book with a mixture of fondness and wry amusement." The Guardian (UK)

    I hired a landscape company to come in and denude the entire seventy acres across the street from my house. I told them that I did not want to see a single blade of grass over there. I am fortunate that there are no Saguaro on the lot, I would have to get permits from the state to move those puppies, they are protected by very strict laws. Even knocking one down by accident brings hefty fines. So what do they do? They put the damn things on the median of our streets, if you have a car wreck and knock over a Saguaro it will cost you at least twenty five thousand dollars, whether you were at fault or not.
    Let me help you out here, Saguaro is one of those Spanish words that is hard for people that don't hale from the area to pronounce correctly. In Spanish the GU combination is pronounced WA as in watts. This word is pronounced Să-wă-rōw.
    Cory walked out of the door as the landscape boss and I were walking back from our inspection of the field. Cory handed me a fresh cup of coffee and a hug. "Lots of history in that field, all of my hidey places are going to be violated," he had a big grin on his face.
    "So what kind of history do you have in my field?" Andy was about to leave, he usually has coffee and a piece of Ģerâld's pastry when he drops Kyle off for school every morning. Cory just grinned at him and I knew he would not talk about it in front of Andy.
    "Well, I can tell you about my experience if you wish to hear it." Of course they did, but before I tell you what I told them let me lay a little more ground work about Arizonan words. More than a few people believe that Arizona is a desert like the movies show with massive barren ground and sand dunes in abundance. There are dunes like that out around Yuma on the west side of the state. Some people have seen western movies that show the landscape as a flat land covered in strange plant life, that is a more correct view.
    Many varieties of cactus abound in Arizona and the southern part of the state has the majestic Saguaro that grows nowhere else, but around the border area with northern Mexico. The plant thrives at about twenty five hundred feet of altitude, much higher or lower and you will not find healthy plants.
    Another prevalent plant is the Cholla—chō-yă, the double LL used in most Spanish words has a ya sound. When saying the Spanish alphabet the double LL is pronounced el-yāy. The cholla is usually a short plant never growing more than three or four feet tall and, for the most part. It sprouts from a single stem, or trunk, to about two or three feet around. The branches of this plant are one and a half to two inches thick, but covered with over a billion tiny needles to every millimeter. These straight pin sized needles are super sharp and have a barb at the end so that they are most difficult to remove. The cholla is also called the jumping cholla because it is attracted to body heat. When a warm blooded creature walks by it will bend its long branches toward that body of heat, it is wise to stay a few feet away from this spiny little plant.
    I was telling Andy and Cory my history in my new field. "I was fifteen and had only just discovered my love of the human male body. About a week or two after my big party at Randy's house Charley brought me up here to see his house. Did you know that there is no wood in the house? The outside walls are two layers of two inch thick, reinforced concrete, each layer poured in one large pour. When the outer wall was cured and the forms taken down four inches of solid single sheet styrofoam was glued to it. The inner wall used the foam as the backing on one side, but plywood forms were up to hold the concrete in place for the second continuous pour. Blue board gypsum, was attached to that inner wall then a thin coat of plaster was added as a finish coat. That is why there are no nails holding up pictures on my walls.
    "When I visited, the foam sandwich meat had only been added that day. I was awe struck by the construction, of course I was only fifteen and had no idea how houses were built so I was easily amazed, especially by a hard cock. I had to piss so Charley led me over into this field. We had a new moon that evening so the night was pitch black, at that time street lights were not allowed up here so that the night sky could be seen.
    "I was staring at more stars than I had ever seen. Charley warned me several times to watch where I was walking over the rough terrain, but I was a kid and didn't listen very well. I really wished that I had heeded his warning for several days after that. I was looking up as I straddled a two foot tall cholla." After both of them gasped they started laughing, anyone who has ever been near the spiny bush can well attest to its aggressiveness.
    "Charley took me to the ER and I have to say that the hospital was mindful of my pain, I…this is embarrassing, I…I remember that I was crying like a kid. My saving grace was the brand new pair of Levis jeans that I had worn, they had not even been washed yet and were very stiff. Those jeans were peppered with tiny needles from knee height to the crotch.
    "I was splayed out on a table with my legs strapped into those metal stirrups. A nurse had his face in my balls as he used tweezers to remove every little needle. He lightly moved his hand over me to see if he had missed anything, when he hit a hidden needle I flinched so that he knew where to work next. Of course he lifted my balls and held them in his gloved hand as he got close enough to lick them, I was as hard as a rock.
    "He held my cock to remove any invaders from it then wrapped his hand around it and stroked me. For my privacy the curtains were drawn around my bed and, from the sounds of the room, we were the only ones there at the moment. I whispered at him that I was about to cum, his eyes gleamed and he sped up is investigative stoke. I told him that he could suck me if he wanted, I filled his mouth with so much cum that he choked. He wanted to know how old I was, he told me that he had never seen a cock so big, even on a grown man.
    "Someone had searched my jeans for needles and I put them on, but I gave the male nurse my underwear. A tear was in his eye as he smiled at me. I wanted him to meet Charley so he escorted me to the waiting room. Sitting with Charley were my parents, I did not like that at all. I know now why they had to be there, but at the time I threw a little boy tantrum.
    "I introduced Charley to the nurse, but my parents horned in to thank him for his professional care, that gave me a moment to whisper to Charley that the nurse was gay and wanted a ride on my cock. I had to go home with my parents so Charley lagged behind to talk to the nurse. I saw that nurse again a few months later and I gave him the ride of his life, he became a regular at our parties until Charley died." Every time I think of Charley I get mushy, Cory had his arm around me and wiped a tear from my cheek. Andy was still grinning from my story then we had to break up and get on with our day.

    If I am going to be the president of a school board then I am going to run a proper school. One thing that I can not conceive is the thinking that permeates our nation's school systems when it comes to teacher's salaries. Let's get real, parents hand over their most valuable asset, their children, to teachers who earn mediocre wages and therefore do a mediocre job. Most teachers love to teach and it is only the very most dedicated ones that really do that job well. Far too often I see classroom teachers that only have ambitions to higher paying jobs in the administrative end and feel that the classroom is, but a mere stepping stone to the next level.
    I feel that a dedicated teacher should earn more than a rocket scientist because it is only through the concerted efforts of such a teacher that a student will aspire to such heights. Sure, there are those self motivated youngsters and there are those students that are motivated by their parents, ofttimes through fear, to achieve. I believe that if a child is taught from an early age, and is allowed to grasp the true scope of his subject, then that child will achieve.
    I am willing to pay for that, cost be damned, what is a child worth? I am not fond of standardized testing, but for lack of something better I have to accept them. I sat down with twelve teachers that would control the direction of the brains of my family for the upcoming school year. At the time I had no control over those who would be teaching my high school boys via the virtual school, but at the Academy I have a lot of input and I could enhance the boys' studies quite easily.
    Bradford Academy West would have one hundred of my boys in grades six through eight, as well as my more recent arrivals that were not ready for the virtual study program. I hired twelve teachers for that task, thus limiting classroom size to twenty students at any one time. Being a private school I was already paying them more than they would receive in nearly any other school in the state, but then I promised each teacher a four figure cash bonus for each boy that achieved a score in the top five percentile of the state's standardized tests. Each teacher had at least three classes of twenty boys each for a potential of sixty thousand dollars, in cash, if they would work to motivate the boys to learn. That task was made even more difficult by the fact that forty seven of the boys spoke little or no English, twenty of the boys had not been in regular school attendance; also there was the fact that they were dealing with the most obnoxious class of human beings on the planet, pubescent teenage boys. All of them took up the challenge.

    Next I had to work on the physical boy. I had a power breakfast with two of the most powerful people I know. I walked into the restaurant ten minutes early and, as I expected, Oliver Hawthorne and Mac Tedford were running on Lombardi time. For the uninitiated Vincent Lombardi was amongst the best football coaches to ever grace the gridiron; there are those that would rate him as the best. Vinney led the Green Bay Packers to five NFL championships when he coached that team from 1959 to 1967. He came out of retirement to coach the Washington Redskins in 1969. Lombardi had one rule that has stuck with me all of my life; "Practice begins at 6:00 AM, you will be on the field with all of your gear at 5:50. When the whistle blows for the first play at six any one who is still putting on their helmet or not on line in the play will not play in the next game."
    At least that is the way I always heard the story, he was a bit before my time, but I do all of my work on what is commonly called Lombardi Time which simply means that I am always ten minutes early, unless I intend to be fashionably late to make a point; of course an accident or a stolen car can make me late once in awhile.
    My two guests were seated on opposite sides of a large table doing their best not to look at one another, "Morning Ollie, morning Mac how's life?" I know that things are tough for both of them. Coach Hawthorne had coached the football team at Temple High School for eighteen years. He is still a young man in his prime at only forty nine years of age and he has a lot of good years left in him. He fucked up when he didn't break up a little boy fun in his locker room after a big game against Wilson High in November of 2005. Young Mitch Evans, who is now a part of my family, made the winning touchdown for Temple High and his boyfriend got carried away in the excitement of the moment, he kissed Mitch. That led to a gang bang where several boys began to have boi sex in the locker room. Ollie walked in only moments before Mitch's father, but he did not break up the action.
    Mitch's father began to beat his son and followed him all of the way out to the parking lot hitting him and calling him every name that he could think of for a queer. He beat his son severally that night then raped him. Mr. Evans is in prison here in the state for child molestation, child abuse, and attempted murder.
    Coach Ollie was fired and his credentials pulled because he had almost two minutes to stop the action before Mr. Evans walked in. As we sat down to eat breakfast Bull was at the school board working his magic and dropping my name. I don't like that, but it seems to be opening doors for me everywhere.

    Coach Tedford is an old hardliner, he was in his third year as the football coach at Wilson High when I started my freshman year. He was coaching his final year before taking his retirement when his son joined the gang that raped Cody Polerd. Mac lost all respect from his students when they learned that his son was a butt fucking queer. The boy is a registered sex offender and has ruined his life. Mac is trying to home school the seventeen year old senior, but he is beating his head against the wall.

    "Coach Tedford, you know me, I spent four years in your classes at Wilson High back in the last century."
    "Damn boy, don't make me feel any older than I am."
    "You're not old coach, and you're not done. Neither is little Mac.
    "Coach Hawthorne, I only know you by reputation, but that is enough to know that I want you. I own two schools; one in upper New York state called Bradford Academy for Gay Boys, and one here in Tucson called Bradford Academy West. I need a football coach for BAW and I would like to have two of the best. Can you two work together for a change?" My cell phone began to dance around the table so I grabbed it and looked at the single word text message from Bull, "GO".
    "My credentials have been pulled, I will never work around kids again," Ollie almost whined.
    "That's not the coach I know of. Do you want to work with boys again? Let me go a little further, can you work with gay boys? I mean full fledged faggots who will probably kiss each other every time they do anything right. These boys don't pat each other on the ass, they grab each other's ass and if they can they will be making out with each other."
    "Who would they play against?"
    "You and Mac build me a team and I will get you your games. Mac? Will you work with us?"
    "I don't know, I have my son to think about."
    "A fringe benefit, he goes to our school, he plays football. He has played with Sean Dickson before, he even played football alongside of him. He also played alongside Victor Sharpe, Derrick Hardwick, Jim Watkins, Mark Franklin, Mike Dickson, Les Tensely, all of those boys that were on your team last year."
    "You have all of those boys at your school? Sean is the best young quarterback I ever coached. He could get a free ride to any school he wants. I was heartbroken when I learned that he wasn't in school this year. I thought he was doing that virtual thing with computers."
    "He is, they all are, Derrick graduated last year, but is going to school here at the university, he has made the bench warming team down there. The one thing that all of the boys miss is playing football. If you will come and coach for us then I am going to transfer the virtual high school boys' enrollment to my academy so that they will be active students, they will still study via their computer classes, but will be enrolled at BAW. How about it guys."
    "I'm in," Mac told me quickly, "I loved working with those boys. How did you get them?"
    "I'm their dad/guardian, let me tell you the story. Ollie?"
    "I would love too, but I am not allowed…"
    My cell phone began to vibrate again. I picked it up and smiled. "Let me put this on speaker phone so he can hear it himself," I told Bull loud enough that my breakfast partners could hear.
    "The ban is local only," Bull began. "In fact nothing ever went into his record and there is no record of his ever having his teacher's certificate pulled. The only thing that I am fighting with the board over is the minutes of a meeting that was held three months after the incident. There are two people on the board that want to see Mr. Hawthorne swing."
    "Excuse me Bull, is that Adelaide Snell and Sybil Farnsworth. They both were elected to the board after our meeting with them last year didn't they? Do you remember my asking Adelaide about her aunt Maxine? Use our trump card Bull, those two women put twenty boys from the foster system into my house, use it. Go for the throat."
    "I knew I recognized those names, but I am not as quick as you are with my recollection. Gotta love ya, I'll slaughter them."
    "I'll recall names, you recall the laws and keep me legal;, but you know Ms. Snell, she will always tell you how wrong you are. That reminds me of a phrase I saw one time; If a man speaks in the desert and there is no woman to hear him, is he still wrong? with Snell he probably is. In the meantime can Oliver work?"
    "As of this moment yes, there is nothing in his permanent record. As for the minutes and our two old friends…give me a couple of hours."
    I looked at Oliver and smiled, "Before that man is through you will have your tenure back and your retirement restored.
    "And if I know Bull, and I do, very well, he will have your retirement restored with these past two years included, as well as your back pay in one lump sum, with interest. That will permit you to take full twenty year retirement on top of what I am going to pay you," I told Mac. I laid out their salaries and offered them a very large bonus for every game won. They won't win the games, it is their leadership and direction of my happy fairies that will cover my school in trophies.
    We got up and filled our plates from the abundance of the Hometime Buffet's breakfast line. I pigged out on their fluffy biscuits smothered in creamy sausage gravy, something I had not eaten in several months. As we filled our bellies I filled the two coaches in on who they would be working with. Mac was amazed at how many of the boys that he had worked with in school were members of my family. I deliberately did not mention Cullen to them; I will let them in on his part in the family one morning soon, but in a more secure surrounding.

    The coaches wasted no time. Both of them wanted to start at once. My boys like to join me for a run each morning, but our running time is the best time for football practice. Up to this point the older boys would complete their run then stop at the school to toss the ball around for an hour or so. This gave them a chance to expose our new boys to the game as well as those boys that did not meet the criteria for the virtual studies classes.
    With coaches now on the scene they would be spending an extra two hours on the field so it was decided that rather than to over excerpt themselves they would do half of the run then report to the field for their training. After that they could make the entire run, if they were still able to walk, they all know coach Tedford.

    The boys were dressed out in their practice uniforms and had broken up into small groups to work on some favorite plays. Cullen has come to love American football and he can kick better than any coach's wet dream. He was kicking field goals as Mac and a tall boy walked across the field towards us. Ollie was just getting out of his car when Cullen split the posts at over sixty yards.
    "Damn, who is that boy. I never saw any kid kick like that."
    "You can't have him," I told him as I whistled at Cullen to get lost.
    "Dad, that's that prince kid from Wilson," Mac Jr. said. I whistled for Cullen to come back and join me as Ollie walked up.
    "I guess you need to know so that you don't say the wrong thing at the wrong time." I explained who Cullen was and why I could not allow him to play football. I can not allow him to be injured nor can I allow him to be recognized. I had two sad coaches. Of course Cullen begged me to let him play, but I had to stand my ground. If I let him practice and he didn't get hurt his team mates would come to rely on his special skill and that could cost them a game point or two.
    I let the coaches do their job then the boys led Mac Jr. to the house where we set him up with a tablet PC and started him on his education process. He was shy about being naked outside of the locker room, but the boys chided him. As I thought, he and Sean were familiar with one another, very familiar.

    It took three days to drain the water from the large cavern beneath granite house. Using submersible pumps the foul water emptied into the arroyo under the three bungalows. There was no outlet for the water that had been collecting under the house for many years, and it smelled like it. A forty yard roll off dumpster had to be brought in for the tons of silt and slime that was in the room.
    We nicknamed Jim radar ears for being the first to let us know what he had heard. I had called the imaging company back out to find the source of the water and was very pleased to learn that there was a major surface fault just under the street in front of granite house. For several years the water running along the side of the street had been working its way under the pavement and into a subterranean pocket less than a foot beneath the city's roadbed. This pocket, or pool, of water was four feet wide and over twelve feet long with a depth of only about six inches. The water had found a small crack at one spot in the stone and over a period of many years had managed to enlarge itself to over five inches wide. That created a twenty five foot waterfall into the cellar. I am not stupid enough to let the city know that there is a basement, or cavern, beneath granite house, we just told them that there was water where water should not be.
    The off shoot of this was that the city had a crew out two days later to tear up the street leading to the houses on east of my house. Andy, Jeff and Mark also have to use that street to get up to their properties. A single lane of roadway was laid over the shoulder to the south side of the street while the road crew destroyed what had been there. The jack hammers worked for two days to expose the entire pocket. Once it was exposed it was drained and filled with an epoxy compound of expanding foam. Many small diameter holes were drilled into the rock so that the foam would have a solid hold for a permanent fix.
    Sunday evening I called Ron and asked him how he had missed the fact that the granite house was sitting on top of a massive cave. He was there at seven o'clock Monday morning, the 24th of September, he could not believe what he was seeing. He had a crew working on the house for several weeks and never once suspected anything, but a solid foundation beneath the property.

    The road crew had their own imaging equipment to identify each and every small crack along the length of the pocket and each one was injected with the epoxy foam using a pressure system to inject it into every crack and crevice. The law does not permit them to go onto private property to make repairs, but they were sure that their fix would prevent water running under the foundation of my house in the future. I wanted to be sure so at the same time that they were injecting their mix from the street into the fissure into my property, Ron was injecting his own mix upstream for a solid seal at both ends.
    A nosy supervisor walked up to the outer gate and saw the slab open to the cavern, but Ron was way ahead of him. He had placed sheets of plywood across the landing that completely hid the mammoth sized area beyond it. He had the plywood braced 'to prevent the sand walls from caving in on him as he worked,' smart man. He told the road supervisor that he was going to have to pour a new concrete wall along there because the water had done a job on the old stone. He had already removed the rusty pipes that ran west to the old well under my driveway and had lengths of pipe standing along the wall when the man climbed down the ladder, uninvited. Ron is quick on his feet and he told the supervisor that this was an old cistern that had once been used to store water for the fountain in the entry garden. He told him that we had noticed the smell and had discovered the slab that covered the cistern after hearing water falling after a heavy rainstorm.
    The man was impressed with the counter balance of the covering slab and wanted to investigate it. Ron told him that the owners of the property were not available and that he could not grant the man permission to be on the property. That sent him back to his duties of leaning against his truck to drink coffee and talk to his girlfriend on his cell phone while his men labored before him.

    I had finally gotten all of the boys off to bed. We keep on a rigid time schedule and are in bed by eleven o'clock every night except Saturday, the boys can sleep in Sunday so they make hay when they can.
    I was tired from a hectic week and had just placed one foot on the bottom step on my way up to my bed when the phone rang. I almost let it ring, but turned away to step into the office to see who was calling, It was Isaac Koch's house.
    Hector and Edgar have been quarreling for several days and all of us were about at the end of our rope. Nobody had any idea what was going on, but a quarrel can upset everyone nearby. Most of the boys had moved into the remodeled cabana with the nine new bedrooms and five bathrooms. The bedroom closest to the main part of old building shared a bath with two bedrooms inside. The addition had made βφτ house have a total of fifteen bedrooms.
    Hector and Edgar had stayed in Isaac's den and had not yet made the move to a new room. That was straining relationships so I had asked the boys if they would move out to the Koch's guest house, whatever their tension was it would not allow their moving at the present time.
    Isaac was ready to blow a fuse as he told me that the two boys had come to blows with one another and that Edgar had left around seven o'clock. I tried to calm Isaac down, he is only sixty six, but he has a bad heart and I would hate for one my boys to be the cause of him having a heart attack.
    Isaac told me that everything was quiet for around three hours then they heard Hector cursing, thirty minutes later he came out of the den with two suitcases and walked outside to a taxi. Mike heard him tell the driver to take him to the airport.
    Isaac went into the boys' room to see if both of them were gone. On the bed was a bag of marijuana so he called me at once. I had to call Andy to get Hector's code for his homing device. I was not sure if Hector had the device, but Andy assured me that he implanted one on all of the boys before he flew them to England for Gary Russell's birthday party in August. He gave me the code and I spotted the signal traveling south from the university area toward the airport.
    I asked the dispatcher to send two agents to the airport and to bring the boy to me. Our homing signal can pinpoint us to within three feet of where we are, but if we do not have the map or the building plans for that location in our system we don't know where a person is. I was listening in on the company frequency as the dispatcher was directing the two agents toward Hector's signal then my screen showed all three signals merge into one. They had him and were returning him.
    It looked as if it might be a long night so I turned to my coffee maker in the office, the one that Cory gave me, and set a pot to brew. Cory came in and wanted to know when I was coming to bed and I told him that there was some sort of trouble with one of my boys, he sat down in my lap and we waited for the coffee.
    My private phone rang, Cory said that it was Pete, I told him to answer it. His face went ashen as he passed the phone to me, I pushed the button to turn on the speaker phone. Pete told us that Edgar had called him from the county jail, he was arrested in the company of an underage naked male during the sex act and marijuana had been found. I sat there staring at Cory then opened my desk drawer to pull out the autopsy report for Isaac Rayburn. I laid it on the desk, Cory picked it up and began to read.
    "He had marijuana in his system at the time of death, this report says that it was of such a level that he would have been impaired to the point of being a danger to himself…" Cory said aloud.
    "Who had marijuana? What are you talking about?" I forgot that Pete was still on the speaker phone.
    "I just got the autopsy report on Isaac from the county coroner's office…"
    "I am on my way up there, don't go anywhere, I want to see that." Pete hung up and my coffee was ready.

    Hector was brought in moments before Pete arrived with Borne and Shane in tow. Pete was stern as he demanded that Borne tell him what he knew of Isaac's condition on the day that he died. Isaac, David, and Edgar had been using the weed all day, all of them were high and taking chances on the rocks. I learned that Edgar and David are still using the drug, but Borne has sworn off of it, he has seen what can happen and wants no part of it, ever again.
    I didn't want to do it, but I had to question Shane. Was he smoking, did he know that Borne was and who else is using the shit? Shane told me that he and Borne had only ever had one fight, and that a few days before the accident. He looked at Borne as he told us that he had smelled marijuana on Borne's clothing and had confronted him. He got in Borne's face and told him that if he ever touched weed again that they were through and that he was going to come to me with what he knew.
    Shane said that he never smelled anything on Borne after that and that he never appeared stoned again. He said that it was only three days later when Isaac was swept over the falls and died. Shane apologized for not telling me about the drugs, he felt that Borne had learned and that he would never use again. He never thought that I would find out that any of the boys were smoking.
    I sat back in my chair, Cory was seated across from me, "All of this presents a very big problem to me. I have one hundred and sixty boys that depend on me to keep them safe, we need to include Kyle also, he is still my son. I am watched like a hawk by so many people who want to put everyone here in an institution for sexual perverts, you two included." I looked Shane and Borne straight in the eye.
    "I do not believe that either of you know how serious this whole mess is. Edgar has gotten the police involved. Hector, how long have you known about this?"
    "I was cleaning up after that slob when a bag of dope fell out of his jacket pocket. I took him out to the back yard and we began to shout at each other. Dad, I hit him, not once, but over and over. I bloodied his nose and cut his eye. I should not have done it, I grew up as a fag kid in foster homes and I had to learn how to fight or die, Edgar can't fight his way out of wet toilet tissue, single ply. I wanted to kill the son of a bitch, he is fucking up the best thing that most of us ever had and I am not going to stand for it.
    "I swear, I never knew that anybody else was using, had I known I would have done something, but I…" he began to cloud up, Cory moved to him and embraced him.
    "Where were you going tonight, Hector?"
    "I was going to fly anywhere the first plane leaving would take me. I can't be around that ass hole, ever again."
    "Hector, you weren't at home so you don't know what has happened." Pete jumped in to tell me that he had not told Shane or Borne about his phone call. I quickly regrouped, "Boys, are any of you aware of Edgar being with anyone outside of the family. Do you know about him being around an underage boy."
    "FUCK!!! Pete shouted out, that kid on the bicycle. He hangs around every afternoon after he gets home from school. Edgar goes out to his car and leaves and the boy rides away. I bet that they are…"
    "Speculation and hearsay at this point. You may have to identify the boy for the police before this is finished. Your old rooms are empty, I want all of you to go to bed here, we will have a family council in the morning. Pete you may go home to Eddy and come back with all of the boys early enough for breakfast.
    "This is the most serious thing to ever hit this family boys and we will discuss it at length."
    "Are you going to make me leave?" Borne looked as if his dam was about to break.
    "Boys, I don't want anybody to leave, but we have a system in this family and we will abide by the decision that our system decides on." After they left for their beds I hugged Cory and told him that this would be a good object lesson for our new boys, especially those from the state. I told him that I wanted everybody in the house to know that nothing is swept under the rug. They had learned about what I had done on my summer trip and I had to sit down and explain myself, of course their only choice in that was to move out of my house and not live around a murderer, here they could expel any guilty parties.

    I asked Cory if he would go to Hector and keep him company for the night, I know that the boy is having a hard time with all of this. I headed upstairs, alone, for the night, but shortly after entering my room there was a soft knock at the door.
    "I am sorry to bother you, but I heard some of that. I can't sleep so I was walking around when I saw those cops bring Hector inside. I sat down in my chair and listened. I know that it was wrong, but I wanted to tell you that I have smoked before, a lot. I don't do it now and I don't want to, but if you kick those guys out then I gotta go too."
    "First of all, are you sleepy yet?" He shook his head no, "I would like to talk a little while so if you want we can lay down or we can go back downstairs."
    "I have never slept with you and I don't have a pin, maybe tonight?" I had to tousle his hair as I sent him to my bed. I wanted to know all about him, I let him tell me before I made him a family member.
    "My name is Kent Boyd, I am fourteen and forever branded as a queer because of my little brother and his boyfriend. So like I knew that Klark was a fag for almost five years, but I never told nobody, never. He didn't mind telling though and he told everybody.
    "I have always been a little shy and laid back, I didn't want to let people get too close 'cause they always hurt ya. Klark and me lived alone with our mom since I can remember then she goes and gets married to this dude that I hate so fucking much. He won't never listen to me and Klark is always right, fuck that. Mom died when I was ten and we was left alone with Chaz, ain't that a fag name? Nobody knows where our dad is at.
    "Klark always wants to see my dick and I used to let him, but then I got to wondering about him. When mom died I let Klark sleep in my bed with me, he has always slept naked and I kinda like it also so I let him sleep naked beside me. After a few days I decided that I wanted to be comfortable so I started sleeping naked also.
    "I guess there is something wrong with me 'cause my dick, started to grow when I was only ten years old so that when mom died I was already about four inches long. Klark was already telling everybody that I had a big dick. The first night I slept naked he sucked my dick and it felt so damn good that I never told nobody. I knew that Klark sucked dicks 'cause I seen him do it to his friend, Sweeny, when they would get naked and suck each other in the middle of Klark's bedroom floor. They both had dinky dicks, but they sure as hell liked to suck each other.
    "I did whatever I could to stay away from Klark and his queer friends so I started to run everyday. I didn't never take no bus to or from school. I got up at five thirty and ran to school where I could take a shower in the boy's gym. I ate breakfast with my friends in the cafeteria and had lunch with them then after school I ran home. Klark started to school there in the sixth grade and I was in the seventh so I had to find somewhere else to go. That is when I met Rog, Roger, he was this really old man and I nearly always saw him sitting at the park watching a ball game or something.
    "A few days after school started for the seventh grade I was sitting at this table doing a lot of nothin when Rog came up to me. He asked me why I wasn't running or nothin and I told him that I's just killin some time so he sits down and we start to talk awhile.
    "He listened real good then he told me that I could come to his house and chill till time to go home and nobody would bother us so I thought about it then went with him. He lives close to the park and he has a nice house.
    "This Roger, did he live west of the park by Jensen Junior high school?"
    "Yeah, about a block from my house." Roger is the name of the man that had snatched Eric from the restroom at that park. I had to research that one, I learned that it was Klark and his friend Sweeny that Roger had been caught with. Those two boys are both living with other family members in other states so why did Kent end up in the system in Arizona? Something smells funny.
    "I would go straight over to Rog's house after school so that I wouldn't have to be around Klark. Rog gave about the best blow job that I ever had. One day I went over there and Klark was bent over a chair while Rog was porking his butt. I mean like, Klark was only eleven years old and that old man was fucking him. I started to leave when Rog told me to stay, he wanted Klark to suck my dick. I got naked and sat back on the chair while Klark got down on his knees to suck on me. Rog was plowing the dude's ass and it was turning me on to watch. I shot Klark a load, but I wanted him to keep on sucking and make me go again.
    "That night Sweeny came to spend the night and Klark wanted me to fuck him while he and Sweeny sucked each other. That sounded good to me and that is what we were doing when Chaz started pounding on my bedroom door. Sweeny jumped up and ran into the bathroom just before Chaz kicked down the door. I was shooting my cum everywhere and some of it was running down Klark's leg. Chaz called the cops who took me away and put me in a shelter till I came here.
    "Dad, er ah, Chris, I never got fucked before I came here, but I love it and I know that I am as queer as Klark was. I met a lot of kids in the shelter that liked to suck cock and they taught me how to suck them, it is really pretty good. I like older boys better, their cum tastes better than little kids. I was fucking this one dude one night then I went to the bathroom to clean up and he went too. In the light I saw that it was Sweeny, he had changed a lot in two years.
    "He told me that he and Klark got busted at Rog's house, Klark was taken away from Chaz and was in a home up in Flagstaff somewhere. Sweeny came to me to get fucked every night then a few months ago he had a physical and they could tell that he was still getting fucked. They asked him who fucked him and he told them that it was me so here I am."
    "So you think that Klark and Sweeny caused you to be a queer or that they just got you caught, twice?"
    "I don't know. I never thought much about sex with Klark sucking me off every night since I was ten years old. I never thought about nothing 'cept how good his mouth felt on me. That night that I fucked him was so great, but then when I got to the shelter lots of guys liked to get fucked. I only never did two of them 'fore I did Sweeny, but that is about the best that there is."
    "So when you came here you wanted to do it?"
    "Not at first, but that one night when we had that birthday party for Gus I watched some guys do it and Slade told me that he wanted to suck my dick, he is really cute and his cum tastes good. He was finger fucking me while we sucked each other and I got so fucking horny that I didn't care when he turned and stuck it up inside of me. At first it hurt and I almost quit, but Theo told me to ride it out for a few minutes. He whispered to me how to take it and in a minute I felt really good.
    "I asked Theo of he would do me and he told me that I would have to do him first so I did. He really likes to get fucked and he is fun to fuck, but damn if he doesn't know how to fuck and make me feel good. He fucked Slade and me both for several days as he taught us how to do it and now I love it and I love Slade who loves for me to fuck him too." He had his head laying on my left thigh as he played with my dick, "I really want to do this."
    "Let's play together tonight, I have a lot to think about and if you want a pin we will have to have two witnesses."
    As if Edgar wasn't enough to fill my plate for several months I had to check into what Kent had told me. I was wondering about a list of names that I had in my desk. Klark Boyd and Sweeny Frazier were in line for transfer to me after the semester change. It will take me sometime to find out if Kent can handle those two boys being a part of the family. My life is like a mystery novel that never ends.

So there you have it. Is your friction enhanced by my fiction?
Tell me about it at fisherman@iname.com
PREVIOUS    HOME    NEXT

50% of all donations go to NIFTY
to support their fine work.